


lap cat

by wintermadethissoldier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve Rogers, Crime Boss Bucky Barnes, Heavy Petting, M/M, Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rich Bucky, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 15:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21077450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintermadethissoldier/pseuds/wintermadethissoldier
Summary: He’s already draped in Bucky’s lap when the first man comes through the doors, his legs dangling over the arms of the chair and an arm hooked around Bucky’s neck. Bucky is nonplussed, his legs wide to accommodate for Steve and looking almost bored as the man stops before them.“Mr. Barnes.” He says quickly, almost stumbling over his words. His eyes flick to Steve, who is already wearing a shit-eating grin at the way the man gulps uncomfortably. “Mr. Rogers.”Bucky is a crime boss and Steve is his boytoy that sits on his lap during meetings.





	lap cat

When his father died and left the Howlies crime syndicate to his eldest and only son, Bucky didn’t think it would be so damn _boring_. Sure, he had doubled their profits since taking charge, adding casino skimming to their already boisterous art smuggling portfolio and gaining them the respect and clientele of the richest and most notorious assholes. And sometimes it could be fun—planning big heists, figuring out what disadvantaged New York community would get the money that month, getting to wine and dine any way he liked, whenever he liked. But there were also a billion goddamn meetings, and meetings were _boring_. Bucky had grown up in the lap of luxury, never having to wait for a thing and garnering the respect of others almost immediately. But since taking charge, he still couldn’t engineer his way out of tedious finance and logistics meetings or throwing elaborate dinner parties for rich politicians and police he would rather shoot in the back of the head than charm. But by far his least favorite thing was to do was to pass down judgement on errant employees, an activity that felt far too much like holding court for Bucky’s liking. Still, there needed to be a sense of responsibility and fear of consequences if certain procedures were not followed, so he continued the practice.

He still fucking hated it. He was not terribly impatient, but he had a very low tolerance for the people that scraped and cried in front of him, or worse—the ones that didn’t think they did a thing wrong. It was exhausting and boring, so he began finding ways to entertain himself.

He found Steve Rogers at an art event, wire-rim glasses perched on a nose that had clearly been broken more than a few times and ocean-blue eyes that had more fight in them than most of Bucky’s men. He was enthralled immediately. Steve was an up-and-coming artist, his unique style of portraits gaining him respect in some art circles, but he still had a ways to go before he was mainstream. He had kept up with Bucky’s flirting and banter, matching him wit for wit and not at all intimidated by his posture, nor the group of bodyguards that always surrounded him in public. Steve looked at him like he was a challenge he wasn’t going to back down from, and Bucky knew he needed him for his own.

So he took him back to his penthouse suite and found out just how that fiery spirit played out in bed—a bratty, demanding bottom that punched the breath out of Bucky and made him come so hard he saw stars. He wasn’t too ashamed to admit that he was immediately hooked, unable to get enough of porcelain skin and a slight frame that was far more resilient than it led anyone else to believe. So he told Steve who he was and exactly what he did, promising to give him a life of luxury and fame if he would just be exclusively Bucky’s.

He had been worried, at first, that Steve would be horrified at Bucky’s profession—after all, smuggling art was fairly high on virtually every artist’s shitlist. But Steve was born ruthless with a need to get ahead and was perhaps just as intoxicated by Bucky. So he accepted, with the condition that he get to decorate his own private apartment with his favorite pieces that they picked up. Bucky had agreed without a beat of hesitation.

Naturally, Bucky started bringing Steve to meetings. First just to have something to look at, eye-fucking over the mahogany table while his business partners droned on about their earnings for the month; he at least had the promise of being able to clear out the rest of the men and bend Steve over the table as soon as the meeting was over, making the long hours suddenly worth it. Then, when he began holding “court” for employees that had broken his strict rules, it had become an even better distraction, playing with Steve’s hair as he sat next to him and playfully asking him what he should do to the men that stood and trembled before him. That quickly developed into Steve regularly draping himself in Bucky’s lap, teasing and pawing at Bucky until he couldn’t take it any more and moved all of his hearings for the next day. They both got a kick out of the flagrant display of intimacy, so shameless and brazen that it usually cowed even the toughest of men.

It had developed into something more as of late, Steve becoming more of Bucky’s equal rather than just a kept toy to play with when he was stressed. The men respected Steve as much as they respected Bucky, not only out of fear of what Bucky himself would do to them if they weren’t, but because Steve commanded a room. He demanded respect and took it, as ruthless as the worst of them in a way that went straight to Bucky’s dick every time. He was pretty sure he was in love.

When he pulled Steve from his painting that afternoon for hearing, Steve came without hesitation, all-too eager to put on a show for whoever had wronged Bucky this time. It was exhilarating to watch them squirm while Steve sucked hickeys into their boss’s neck, unabashed and proud of his place right on his lap. The Howlies had started referring to him as the Kitten only months after he entered Bucky’s life, and he found he liked it well enough. They could call him whatever they wanted—he was fucking the boss and there wasn’t a damn person alive that could touch him.

He’s already draped in Bucky’s lap when the first man comes through the doors, his legs dangling over the arms of the chair and an arm hooked around Bucky’s neck. Bucky is nonplussed, his legs wide to accommodate for Steve and looking almost bored as the man stops before them.

“Mr. Barnes.” He says quickly, almost stumbling over his words. His eyes flick to Steve, who is already wearing a shit-eating grin at the way the man gulps uncomfortably. “Mr. Rogers.”

“Anderson.” Bucky says casually, fingering one of the rings on his hand. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Sir, I didn’t-” He starts, looking somewhere over Bucky’s shoulder to a point on the wall.

Bucky makes a _tsk_ing noise, holding his hand up. “First, look at me when you speak to me. Don’t worry, Stevie likes to be watched.” He hums, dropping his hand and letting it fall on Steve’s upper thigh. “Second, I don’t want excuses.We run a tight ship here. I don’t let just anyone in.” He continues, absent-mindedly trailing his other hand up Steve’s spine. “We gave you a good job. Protection. A family.”

Steve tunes out, having heard the same spiel over and over again. He knows deep down that Bucky doesn’t like bringing the hammer down on his employees, particularly the ones that have known him since he was born. But running an operation as risky as this meant that nothing could go wrong, and losses needed to be cut for the greater good of the organization. Still, that doesn’t mean that Steve can’t make it a little easier for him. He readjusts himself on Bucky’s lap, settling the curve of his ass on Bucky’s crotch—half the fun of this was feeling how hard he could make Bucky, all the while Bucky delivered his judgement down in flat, unemotional syllables. It was a game of sorts, to see if he could get Bucky to crack any during these little meetings of theirs; if he could, he knew there would be some sort of punishment later.

That only made things that much more exciting.

“Please, Mr. Barnes, I was just tryin’ to-”

“Don’t speak over me.” Bucky all but growls, sending electricity down Steve’s spine. He always had a thing for bad boys, but it was so much better when they were actually dangerous. He threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck, looking up through his lashes at the poor guy in front of them. “You don’t steal from us. You need something, you come to me. You know we help our own. But you don’t risk our whole fuckin’ operations by taking a cut from the tables and buddying up to the fuckin’ pigs.”

“We aren’t friends, I-”

Bucky’s hand grips Steve’s upper thigh hard out of instinct and frustration, causing Steve to tip his head back and hum, pleased.

“We saw you meeting with the 37th precinct sergeant. We can’t have that, can we doll?” Bucky looks over at Steve, his hand rubbing over the bruises already forming on his thigh in silent apology.

“I don’t think so.” Steve replies coolly, grinding his ass down just slightly, Bucky’s dick finally finding interest in what was happening.

“Hear that, Anderson? Stevie doesn’t think that’ll fly either.” He grins up at Steve, sharp and like the two of them are sharing a secret—the two kings of this whole damn affair.

“I promise I’m not— I would never.” Anderson tries again, tripping over his words.

“Actions have consequences. You know that. You knew that comin’ in and you’re going to learn it going out.”

“I swear, anything you ask, I can get you-”

“I don’t want anything you’ve got to offer anymore. Our partnership is over, I’m afraid.” Bucky cuts him off again, his free hand hooking around Steve’s hip and readjusting him on his lap. “But there will be consequences.”

Steve rolls his eyes at the subsequent protesting from the man, kissing a line up Bucky’s exposed collarbone to his jaw to distract him from the nonsense pouring out of this guy’s mouth. Bucky doesn’t move an inch, still impassively watching the man in front of him try and save his own ass, but Steve can feel his dick twitch in response, hardening against Steve’s ass and making him go nearly crazy with want. He doesn’t think he’ll even be able to make it back to the apartment this time—maybe he’ll bend himself over the chair like a present and beg Bucky to fuck him hard and fast. Or maybe he can get Bucky to fuck him in the back of his limousine again, tears streaming down his face from Bucky’s hands around his throat and dick. It had been nearly too long—almost a whole day. He figures they both deserve a little fun.

There doesn’t seem to be any sign of Anderson stopping his excuses and Bucky doesn’t seem too interested in stopping him just yet, so Steve takes the liberty of starting to suck marks where Bucky’s throat meets his collarbone, making sure to let the obscene _pop_ of his lips detaching from skin echo throughout the room. As much as he loves being held down and bruised all over by Bucky, there’s a definite allure in being able to so brazenly mark up one of the country’s most powerful crime bosses. Bucky is _his_, and though Bucky would never dream of letting anyone forget it, Steve figures a little extra reminding couldn’t hurt anyone. He is Steve’s, and Steve is his—they belong to each other now and Steve isn’t quite sure he ever wants to let go of this.

He hums in discontent against his neck as he kisses up to his ear, his teeth scraping the shell of his ear. “This is boring.” The only indication that Bucky’s heard him is the way his hand tightens on Steve’s upper thigh ever-so-slightly, his face impassive.

“I know, darlin’. Just be patient for a little longer and I’ll make it up to you.” He promises with another squeeze of his thigh, sliding it up to settle in the crease of where his thighs meet his crotch—so damn _close_ to where Steve wants him to be. Steve’s sigh of disappointment tilts up at the end, a tiny needy noise that only Bucky can hear. He turns back to the man shifting his weight from foot to foot in front of him, worrying his hat in his hands.

“Now, Anderson, you’re makin’ kitten here impatient. And we all know he isn’t known for his patience.” Bucky lifts an eyebrow and Steve smirks against his neck, licking a stripe along a vein. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Sorry, sir. Sirs.” The poor man stammers, swallowing hard with his eyes still firmly on the floor.”

“Better. Now, about the repayment...” Bucky squeezes his thigh again and Steve instinctively grinds down, resisting the urge to moan at the friction on his ass. God, it felt _powerful_ to do this to him. Bucky slides his other hand up his back and tangles his fingers in his hair, pulling back sharply and pulling Steve off of his neck. Steve only laughs breathily at the warning, rolling his hips again.

“You’ll pay back double what you took from me. Think that’s fair.” Bucky muses, taking his hand off of Steve’s thigh for a moment to push his legs further apart, giving him more room to work with. “You’ll disappear, somewhere north, maybe.” He continues, leisurely dragging his hand up from Steve’s knee to his inner thigh. Steve tips his head back, eyes closed and a breathy sigh escaping his lips as he leans into the touch.

“If we ever hear from you again, or if we hear of any pending investigations that link back to you, I will come and find you.” Bucky threatens, his voice low as he runs a finger over the crease of Steve’s thigh. “And I will not be so forgiving next time.” He grips Steve’s thigh once more, hard enough to bruise, and Steve can’t stop the high, needy noise that escapes his throat.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Anderson looks like a bobblehead, nodding furiously and trying his best to look anywhere but Steve.

“Now don’t let me see you again.”

Before Bucky’s voice is done echoing through the nearly-empty room, Anderson is gone, the door shutting behind him with a sharp click.

Steve chances a look down at Bucky, still unmoving as he stares at the door.

“Buck?” He asks, his voice already rough and well on its way to being wrecked.

Bucky looks up at him, his pupils so blown that Steve can see just the thinnest rim of slate-blue. He’s looking at Steve like he’s going to devour him whole and Steve shivers with the thrill of it all.

“On your knees.” He manages to get out, his authoritative tone shaking a bit with need. Steve obediently slides to the floor in front of him, his hands already pulling at Bucky’s belt. He makes quick work of his pants, sliding them to the floor and running his hands up Bucky’s thighs, looking up at him through his lashes for permission.

“Please.” Steve whines, his own erection straining at his jeans.

“Please what?” Bucky prompts, looking so close to breaking his restraint that it makes Steve dizzy with want.

“Fuck me.” Steve begs, his fingers digging into Bucky’s upper thighs.

“You were distracting today, kitten. I almost didn’t get to do my job.” Bucky frowns, reaching down to run a hand through Steve’s hair. “I think I let him off the hook too easy.”

“I don’t think so.” Steve breathes, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with Bucky when all he wants to do is climb into his lap and ride him into next week.

“Mm, I think so.” Bucky muses, tugging on Steve’s hair. “So you’re gonna get some of his punishment, yeah? You’re gonna suck me off and then you’re gonna go wait for me to come fuck you later.” He jerks Steve’s head up to meet his eyes.

“When?” Steve breathes, his skin feeling too tight and too hot.  
“Later.” Bucky says pleasantly, releasing his grip on Steve’s hair. “And you’re going to be good for me and not touch yourself, right?” He asks, tipping Steve’s chin up with a finger.

“Maybe.” Steve smirks, leaning forward and trying to silence Bucky with his mouth on his dick. Bucky stops him, his hand wrapping around Steve’s throat and squeezing as he leans forward, bringing himself to eye level with this beautiful fucking bastard of an angel he’s been gifted.

“You will, or there will be consequences.” He warns, releasing his grip on Steve’s throat and leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs. “Now, I believe you were about to do something?”

He loves that fucked-out look Steve gets in his eyes, slightly unfocused like Bucky’s said all the right things to make him go crazy. And it makes all the waiting worth it when Steve finally wraps his lips around his cock, taking him inch by goddamn inch like he was made for it. Bucky threads his fingers through Steve’s hair again, his hips rolling into Steve’s mouth because he knows he can take it—_dammit_ he won’t last long after his little performance. Steve hollows out his cheeks and lets Bucky thrust into his mouth, moaning around him like he’s enjoying this just as much as Bucky is. And he is _goddammit_, because he found the best fucking guy in the city—hell, the world—that sucks dick like a dream and has a way with rolling with the punches that makes Bucky wild.

He loves him, he really fuckin’ does.

It doesn’t take him long for him to come down Steve’s throat, groaning his name out and thrusting shallowly in Steve’s mouth until he comes down from the aftershocks. And _God_ he looks so perfect like this, lips red and swollen and tears at the corners of his eyes from choking on the length of him. He’ll come later tonight and fuck him silly into the mattress like he deserves, but he can’t pass up the opportunity to tease Steve within an inch of his life. It’s only fair, after all, for the hard work he puts in trying to get Bucky to come in his pants like a fourteen year old during meetings.

He pulls Steve up to him and kisses him long and hard, not giving two shits about his spit-slick chin or the way his mouth tastes like Bucky.

“I fuckin’ love you.” He says as he pulls away, grinning wildly at Steve as he blinks at Bucky in a daze.

“Enough to fuck me _now_?” He whines, and Bucky hears the _I love you too_ just the same.

“We’ll get there, kitten. I promise.”


End file.
